


how much honey can the heart stand

by choppersupportsgirls (earlieststar)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Intimacy, Platonic Relationships, The Comfort Of Being Seen & Known & Loved Anyways, This Is Soft & Pure, i guess some of it can be read romantically if you want to?, its all Love anyways, the strawhats are soft and domestic with each other and you can pry that from my cold dead hands
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24444421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earlieststar/pseuds/choppersupportsgirls
Summary: tender snapshots in the lives of the strawhat pirates and all the quiet ways people can love each other;
Relationships: Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates & Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates
Comments: 21
Kudos: 127





	1. this is my life and it doesn't seem like the wrong one

**Author's Note:**

> this is an anthology of sorts, i guess, of the various strawhats being cute and nice with each other. they all love each other very much and show it in different ways and i want to explore the various dynamics in the casual demonstrations of affection and support in the crew. of course, this means that this story will most likely be all over the place, because there are so many combinations of characters but-  
> either way this is a love letter to quiet and casual demonstrations of affection and intimacy and also to the concept of found family because i am a soft bitch like that :) hope you enjoy it <3
> 
> story title comes from mary oliver's softest of mornings.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robin asks zoro to cut her hair one day after they return from enies lobby's remains;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter title comes from cunningham's a home at the end of the world.

The Galley-La t-shirts they were given are soft to the touch, even new as they are. Hers is a subdued pink colour that had caught her eye when the clothes had been offered to them, and it fits nicely over her still sore shoulders. She was used to picking her own outfits and had went shopping with Nami quite a few times over the previous islands, but it still felt new to be able to  _ choose _ . 

Nami smiled when she told her that, looking attentive but a little confused. They were walking down the streets of Water 7 and the sounds of their low heels clacked on the sidewalks. “There’s not much freedom in that way when you have to play a part all the time. As silly as it sounds, I missed these sorts of things,” and their navigator’s grin got softer, a nod and a murmured ‘I get that’, and they talked about the various disguises they had to pull over their lives amicably in and out of stores.

The idea got her when she was in a dressing room, pulling over her head a purple dress. It was tight and the fabric was firm, but nice to the touch. There was black lace delicately sown on the inside of the cuffs and also on the hem and in all it was a garment that made it near impossible to run comfortably or fight. It offered less protection even than the one she wore throughout Enies Lobby, which at least was made of a sturdier leather. Robin had never really fought close-range all that much, but she had done a great deal of running and the thought of choosing to wear something so restricting was thrilling, in a way. It was dangerous, but there was a heat of certain, unmovable trust that, even if they needed to flee somewhere anytime soon, she would not be alone and she would not be left behind that made her stop and consider the clothing with a little more attention that the lump of fabric probably required. 

It slid nicely over her skin and she reached to pull her hair from inside the collar of the dress when it hit her: the  _ choice _ , that freedom of being able to change how the world looked at her, and the safety that she could let the world see her as she was and not as some character carefully crafted to ensure survival. By itself, it was just a common dress - a pretty one, but not all that special -, but her heart was still raw from the emotion and adrenaline of the days prior and she was maybe feeling more poetic than usual.

Robin pondered at her reflection and her hair bundled entirely in her right hand, hidden from view as she tugged it free. Her neck looked just too tender like that, exposed, but it also looked _nice_ , appealing like the delicate purple dress. And wasn’t that an interesting idea? To wear something for the sake of it being pretty and to leave her skin unprotected for the sake of vanity, knowing that there were people to walk by her side, and to carry her if she fell, and that no blade would get close enough to her jugular to actually strike. To not worry, even if her wrists were still chaffed from the sea stone handcuffs, and focus instead on the lace soothing over the skin. She hadn’t let her hair down yet.

Robin bought the dress. On the way back to Iceburg’s headquarters, she also bought a razor and a bottle of sake.

He was napping on a corner when she arrived with Nami, just like she knew he would. Zoro was a predictable man, a comforting consequence of him simply being sure of who he was, and so Robin knew he would be there and that he was the one to ask for. He was never much bothered by his own appearance, aside from a handful of small vanities, and he was never keen on needing others to perform simple tasks for himself, which resulted in him cutting his own hair when it got unmanageable. It also resulted in a simple shrug and a hand reaching for the razor, a “why not?” thrown casually at her, when she asked if he could cut her hair too.

Robin is already seated on one of the common space chairs, facing the mirror and sink on the small bathroom, when she tells him there is a nice bottle of booze in thanks for his help. He snorts, but the amusement upturning his lips follows it soon after.

His hands are calloused and rough. They comb through Robin’s hair to mess it up as he, apparently, analyses how to best go at it - his own hair had never gotten that long, most likely. Robin offers no instructions nor help nor preferences, and the house is quiet when he seemingly decides to just snip the length of a strand on her crown. Zoro doesn’t wait much for her reaction before starting to shorten other pieces of her hair, movements sure and fingers holding her head steady.

Robin had never met people that even came close to the Strawhats. There was this subtle gentleness in the way the crew handled each other, a sense of familiarity that she had never thought possible. Of course, this probably said more about her than any of them, but it was a fact that without her noticing or even willing, she had become a part of this too. Zoro wouldn’t cut her, even on accident, and he wouldn’t question her decision to let him this close when she had trusted him with the responsibility once, and they both knew that without saying anything. His nails scratching her scalp every once in a while is conversation enough. She closes her eyes.

Their borrowed living space is silent, Luffy still sleeping and bandaged up in a corner and most of the other members out and about, Nami having left for the pool shortly after they arrived. There is only the faint sound of her hair being cut, one piece at a time, the floor becoming littered with fallen strands. There are fingers pulling her fringe back and holding it away from her forehead and she can’t help the way her nose twitches at a few stray hairs tickling it on their way down.

Her neck feels a little bit cold, not used to the way there is nothing covering it anymore, and even with a sharp blade reasonably close to her jugular, there is no anxiety. It doesn’t feel surprising.

Before long, Zoro is lowering the razor, saying “done,” and Robin is opening her eyes to look at herself in the mirror. It’s weird to see herself suddenly without the bangs, and her eyes are a lot more noticeable like that. The hair is cropped short, some strands sticking out messily and looking like a nest on top of her scalp. It’s not even close to a professional haircut, and worlds away from the neat lines her previous style had, but in that way it is  _ perfect _ . When Robin lowers her gaze again to her expression, she sees a bright, big smile that she did not decide for. Zoro is grinning too, half smug and half wild - it’s something that always made him look younger, closer to his actual years, and it feels warm that he’s that happy simply in response to her contentment.

And she  _ is  _ happy. It also doesn’t feel surprising - just right. Zoro runs a hand over her hair to muss it up more, and when he leaves her in the bathroom (looking for his alcoholic reward, she knows), she does it too, experimentally pulling on the new length and letting her nails scratch. Her hair is softer like that, weirdly enough, and the uneven texture feels foreign and too much like freedom for something so small. It’s unruly in a way that reminds her of Luffy’s, even if his is longer and terribly kept. The image fills her with joy instantly. She knows her captain, whenever he actually wakes up, will like it, can already ghost feel his fingers playing with it in amusement and curiosity.

Robin is still smiling - she doesn’t think she will stop soon and her cheeks are already aching - when she thanks Zoro for the help, and he only salutes with his newly acquired bottle in response, settling down to nap again. It’s such a small change, considering everything, but it feels somewhat grand, like a reclamation, like a breath of fresh air, like the final chapter of a long book, knowing that there is another to start right after. (Scratch the ‘maybe’, she is in fact more poetic these days, but it doesn’t matter. She has earned it.)

She curls a tiny strand on her nape over her fingers and sits on the table with a piece of sponge cake Sanji had left for her earlier in the fridge. They aren’t even in the new ship, but Robin already feels at home.


	2. i was cold and you were Spring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> usopp runs cold sometimes. luffy chases it away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the working title for this fic is literally “hmmmm snuggles..........” and so i am here to Deliver  
> chapter title this time comes from my own little gay mind  
> i imagine this is very early on their trip, because usopp is still very young and doesnt have much confidence yet? maybe i made him out to be too childish, but tbh as a 17yo i was very clingy and delicate so its ok usopp can have a little vulnerability and be a little starved for comfort, luffy is there to hold him regardless  
> also ive been told chopper was actually 15yo pre ts????? i always thought he was younger and oda doesnt own me so now hes a 12yo.

Usopp had always run cold. His mother had too, her feet always freezing against his shins at night, even underneath wool blankets. Her nose would poke his cheek and leave a chilly spot there and it never failed to make him giggle. His is no different, although he doesn’t do much of the poking thing. It was a little affectionate gesture before bedtime, just a  _ silly  _ little thing, anyways, and it’s not like there are many shared bunks going on around here. Well, Chopper sometimes sneaks under Zoro’s sheets or just plops on his lap when he’s napping outside, but that’s the exception, not the rule. Also Chopper’s a twelve year old kid, and away from home for the first time - it’s expected of him to do this sort of thing. Usopp is a big boy, almost a full adult, and a captain of eight thousand men, he doesn’t need someone holding his hand or warding off nightmares anymore. He’s gonna become a strong warrior of the sea, afterall.

He doesn’t miss someone to curl up with, not really, he’s just- he’s just  _ cold _ . That’s normal, and has nothing to do with the hollow little itch he feels when he puts on his pajamas and goes to bed. They aren’t close to any winter islands, but the air has been chilly the past few days and most of everyone on the ship has taken to wrap in comforters come evening, so it’s natural that he feels a little colder than usual. He’ll just rub his arms and wrap himself more tightly under his blankets, no biggie. Usopp’ll wake up with his feet cold when he slips out of the hammock, and the tip of his nose won’t warm up until after breakfast, but he’s fine with that. He is.

Except- that there is  _ something  _ slowly wrapping over his uncovered shoulder, and Usopp has his back to whatever it is that’s gripping him. He would have gripped if not for how on edge of his consciousness and sleep he is and how, before he can truly work out his vocal chords to scream, he recognises Luffy’s fingers, feels the hints of direct sunlight still emanating from his skin.

He’s confused, but doesn’t get to ask, because his captain - a sneaky, cruel man who will certainly be thrown overboard come the next morning - lifts Usopp’s blanket from under him, letting a rush of freezing air hit Usopp out of nowhere and effectively rolling him almost off the hammock entirely. “Oi,” he’s holding onto the edge of the hammock tightly, pressing himself to it and trying precariously not to lose balance, “Luf, what’re you-”

Warmth presses all over his back, the hand previously holding his shoulder sliding under the blanket and around his front, and it effectively shuts up Usopp’s confused whispering. Luffy is making himself comfortable against him, presence spreading like a heat from a furnace, stretchy arms slowly but surely enveloping his waist. The crowing of his name, drawn out in a way that’s very characteristic, in an offkey melody that is most likely too loud for the hour, chokes a chuckle out of Usopp. The ‘ppu’ is a bubble popping in the quiet of the men’s quarters, so familiar that the others don’t even react to the noise. Luffy squeezes his middle and Usopp presses his cold, cold feet up his captain’s legs in revenge (it’s his fault anyways, he was  _ just _ maybe getting warm when Luffy invaded his hammock).

A groan, fingers gripping Usopp’s sides and something wet on Usopp’s shoulder, and he’s not surprised that Luffy is drooling on him, but it’s not any less disgusting for it. “Stop drooling, Luf- ‘right?,” he murmurs, barely making sense on a voice thick with sleep, knowing very well that Luffy isn’t likely to be paying attention anyways. He wiggles in place to try and force the grip to lighten a little, but it only serves for Luffy’s hands to grab his waist more vehemently. 

Usopp sighs, accepts his fate, and turns around to face his captain and settle down. He doesn’t doubt that Luffy won’t let him fall, but it’s still safer to have some say in the matter, and considering how many times he had awaken to the sight of said boy on the floor by his own hammock, he isn’t completely sure Luffy is above falling  _ himself _ and dragging Usopp along. He certainly looks at peace holding him, relaxed and snoring away.

There’s a lazy moment in which Usopp contemplates just falling asleep, but there’s something about the warmth enveloping him that makes him feel just a little too happy to pass out without enjoying it. It’s the realization that Luffy knew Usopp was cold, sneaked into bed with him precisely because Usopp was cold. The other boy is fast asleep, face mushed up against Usopp’s skin and the sight alone fills him with a kind of softness that almost makes him put aside the drooling. (It’s still _gross_ , tho, and Usopp will have  _ words  _ about it. Just maybe- next morning? Yeah, next morning sounds good.)

It feels very unimportant how Luffy knew to come and wrestle him into warmth, but he’s always had a keen ability to tell these kinds of things. A nakama was cold from something that a blanket couldn’t solve, and to his captain the solution was probably obvious. Like it’s obvious when Luffy pushes him more gently than usual and starts a play-fight just for the sake of it, and Usopp realizes later on that his heart had been tight with homesickness. Or when Luffy tells the tales instead of him, going on cheerily about some crazy thing he did in the woods when he was a child (well, they still are children, probably. There’s a fond tilt to Robin’s smile that looks too much like his mother’s had, once, and he’s just slowly coming around to it, if only to himself and when it’s quiet) - Usopp knows these times that Luffy is doing that for him, because the shadow gives way to the sun’s heat on his skin, from where Luffy drags him across the ship at his leisure, Chopper usually catching a ride on top of his head. It’s either the sunshine or Luffy’s presence itself, covering like a blanket and fighting off the cold. Like now.

Usopp shoves his chilly feet on his captain’s shins, watches him squirm but not wake up. He nuzzles their cheeks together, pokes him almost absentmindedly with the point of his nose. Luffy smiles through his slumber, and after that Usopp doesn’t feel quite so cold anymore. He falls asleep, unbelievably comfortable and happy, with his face pressed on Luffy’s hair. (It’s messy and kinda sweaty, which is  _ also gross _ . Usopp will complain about it, and loudly, too. Possibly. In the morning, yes. Not worth waking everyone up for such a  _ silly  _ thing, anyways.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ive been receiving Struggles lately so the only possible option was to reward 'sopp with some good ol' Snuggles am i right?


	3. but with whom can you sit in the water?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nami goes swimming with jinbei on an early, calm morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set in a post-wano setting somehow, because jinbei is part of the crew and sailing actively with them, but contains no further spoilers and is non-specific for much else, because im not caught up with wano anyways :)  
> i like fish dad a lot and really want to see him interact with nami more because they have such an intricate relationship and i feel like their dreams can kind of align with each other's in a nice way. just wanna see more of them tbh theres a lot to explore there and i hope i did okay with my first try in the subject (i will, most likely, revisit their relationship in other fics or chapters)  
> title comes from the poem "after bobardment, sonya", by ilya kaminsky, though there is no other similarity between both pieces aside from that one small line.

It’s more of a late night for her than an early morning, the first time it happens, and she isn’t even the last one on watch. They had just gone through a bad storm, her throat still hoarse from directing the others around the ship - her hands hurt from helping pull on the ropes and the lingering taste of sea salt from the neverending waves coming up deck persevering no matter how much water she drank afterwards.

The ocean of the Grand Line had calmed down frustratingly fast after a handful of gruesome hours. Like a child throwing a tantrum, the sea had eventually settled down for a nap, not more than two hours before, but Nami had stayed awake even then, pouring onto some books they managed to find about what was (probably) the next island. There’s a lukewarm, half-empty and half-forgotten cup of chamomile tea Sanji had gotten her earlier, and she picks it up again, the faint smell of honey making her smile. Her eyes hurt a bit from the all nighter, and her hair is tangled beyond what she’s willing to deal with, when she takes it out of a messy updo. The book and glasses are forgotten as she stretches her arms and back, walking out of the library.

She doesn’t expect to find Jinbei on deck. He’s looking very put together, barely affected by the excitement of a few hours earlier, but she figures he must have quite the experience sailing through complicated waters, and surely doesn’t mind the ocean raging all around them the way most humans would. When he sees her there, he smiles. “Good morning, Nami.”

She nods back at him once. “‘d morning, Jinbei.” It’s not even light outside, yet, dawn approaching slowly in the horizon. “Couldn’t sleep?,” Nami asks, not bothering to contain a yawn. Jinbei, sitting calmly on the grassy deck, shakes his head and uncrosses his legs to start stretching.

“Oh no, not at all. I slept alright,” and he actually looks like it. Like getting not more than a couple of hours of rest is just fine for him. It’s something curious, that she’s noticed during the time he has been actively sailing with them - Jinbei always looks pleasantly surprised by the routine of the ship, or better saying, the lack of it. She’s caught him looking around the ship with a tilt to his head, assessing where every crewmate is and mostly finding them relaxing or doing some other leisure activity of their choice (Zoro is a meathead who actually enjoys working out for hours on end and everyone else does like their jobs, too), then chuckling to himself and going to the back of the upper deck to sunbathe with Robin. By all means, he seems to go through his days like a retired old man spending his free time on a peaceful countryside, and not like a crewmember of the future Pirate King and an outlaw wanted by the entire World Government and all but one of the remaining Yonkou. “I’m habituated to being up early, and I like going for a swim first thing in the morning.”

She smiles, following him to the starboard rail when he stands up and walks to it. “I bet the sunrise looks pretty from the water surface,” Nami says, leaning a hip on the rail and letting the weak breeze chill her cheeks when she looks over the ocean.

“It does.” And then he doesn’t hesitate to offer a hand, smile back in the way Gen-san would at her and Nojiko when they were children. There’s definitely a distinct grandfather-y tone to it. “Would you like to come with?”

She’s tired, and it probably isn’t a good idea. Her muscles are sore and her eyes would only hurt more if she opened them underwater. The water would be cold, and she needs to do laundry soon anyways, but it’s always worse to wash salt-dried clothes. Her original plan had been to go brush her teeth and decide if a warm bath was worth the effort before going to bed. Unlike Jinbei, she’s still riding the high tensions from the storm earlier, only distracted from it by pure exhaustion, which also reminds her of how dangerous the sea at this part of the world is, even if it’s deceptively calm at the moment.

But Nami knows, without a doubt, that Jinbei won’t let her drown, and the idea does sound nice. It’s a strange feeling, to acknowledge that she already trusts him so much. It wouldn’t have been like that a few years before, and it registers warmly within her that she’s safe in this ship, that she will always have Sunny as a home to come back to, and that all the people beloved to her, at sea or back at Cocoyashi, are well and happy. Even after Sabaody, Nami doubted she would ever feel this safe around another Fishman, but Jinbei is so inherently different than Arlong, all kindness where he was cruel, all understanding where he was inflexible, all protector where he was violence. It’s just another proof of how large this world is, and she intends to map every single corner of it, so everyone who sets out to sea can know this, too. Her exhausted mind vaguely goes through all those points, but in the end it matters very little.

It’s just Jinbei with her, waiting patiently as her sleep-deprived mind rambles, a Strawhat, the one who fights with them and takes Sunny wherever Nami points to, who eats and sleeps and laughs with them and spends his days leisurely. He sits with Chopper on the galley to talk about different water-native plants and some emergency aid he learned as a soldier to King Neptune, then keeps on as Sanji asks him about how was the food there and how was he liking his meals here so far. He reads with Robin under the shade of the Mikan trees, sometimes quietly and sometimes chatting away, especially when Usopp is tinkering nearby with some seeds and nestings for Kabuto. He watches with a satisfied, proud grin as the boys fight and play around and invent games to entertain themselves, and lets Luffy drape himself over him and hang out without so much as moving a muscle. Once or twice before, he had jumped over the railing, unprompted, to check up on a sea current or an underwater rock formation that Nami was trying to work into a map.

She likes swimming, but it’s been a long time since she’s done it just  _ because _ , so she answers “that sounds nice,” then takes his hand and drapes a leg overboard.

The water is cold, which is not a surprise, considering the hour. Her clothes will stick to her uncomfortably when she pulls herself back onto the ship, but for now it’s hard to care: the sun has only barely pointed out in the horizon and the sea is clear enough for her to see how nearby fish swim more closely to them, revolving around Jinbei. They seem comfortable in a way that Nami is not used to, and slide over her legs and arms almost affectionately. She can’t help but laugh at how Jinbei seems to smile and silently greet them, even if it makes her have to go back up for air faster.

Swimming in the ocean is hard, but she manages to find a steady rhythm soon enough, and it feels really nice. Her eyes are still stinging a little bit, but she’s relaxing slowly in the water. (Her hair sticks to her cheeks and forehead when she surfaces, and she has half a mind to ask Usopp to detangle it for her later on - she’s even already planning on maybe doing his cuticles in exchange, which have been a mess and close to breaking apart lately.) The chill of the sea on top of her overheated and tired muscles is soothing, as is the movement of the current they are on.

“You’re a good swimmer.”

Nami lays back, willing her body to just float for a while. “It’s been a while, but I suppose I did have good teachers.” The commentary settles lightly between them, casual, but she knows Jinbei understands better than anyone all the layers underneath it. She’s glad she’s met him, glad he’s nakama, and the silence that follows is comfortable.

Her shirt spreads around her, an old floral button up that used to be Franky’s, and in colors tasteful enough that she snatched it before Sanji could. Beside her, Jinbei is going through some exercise routine that is probably Fishman Karate, and she watches quietly for a little bit before closing her eyes and waiting for the dawn.

She must have ended up napping, because next time she comes to, the sun has risen fully in the sky, and the ocean around them is painted in shades of orange and pink. Nami was right, and it looks absolutely beautiful. She feels the school of fish nearby dancing around them, tracking water, and the surface looks coated with a layer of crystal, glittering as the light hits it. “I get why you wake up so early everyday, now.”

Nami leans an arm on his shoulder, tiredness seeping out some of the strength in her movements, and watches their surroundings waking up and coming to life. “I love Fishman Island very dearly, but there’s nothing like that down there.” He laughs, heartily, “makes piracy worth it, don’t you think?”

It does, and she understands it. “When we achieve your dream, and other Fishpeople are able to see it too, I’m gonna make sure they know the way to wherever they want to go,” and her voice is low, not more than a whisper. The Strawhats know the weight of a promise, and all of them are gonna achieve their dreams.  _ Everyone who sets out to sea will know this, too, _ one day.

A little later, when she can’t contain her yawning anymore and is resting most of her weight on him, Jinbei helps pull her onboard. Nami makes her way to the bathroom to take a quick shower, and watches as he heads to the galley, greeting Sanji, who’s predictably already up, warmly at the door. Neither of them bother to get dry, and instead just track salt water over the deck and hallways. She hears the cook greeting him back and also a grunt that’s very likely Zoro, who was in fact the late watch that night and had probably moved to nap in the kitchen when he was relieved from duty. Who was even next? Brook? Oh, well. It’s not her, anyways, so she decides to worry about that only when they get to the next island and she has to reassign the shifts.

Getting clean takes what little energy she had left to expend on thinking about things, but when she finally gets into her pajamas and drops herself into bed, she still makes a mental note to talk to Usopp about her hair, whenever she wakes up. Just as she’s about to fall asleep, she feels Robin kissing her forehead, as she usually does before heading for breakfast. Nami’s so tired, but she’s feeling so nice, and so loved by her family, who’s with her in storm and calm.

She makes a note to wake up early more often, too, and swim with Jinbei again. She might just make a habit out of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i have a lot of little scenes and tender nice moments planned for this fic and am slowly sorting through them and adding to it! always expect more soft family domestic stuff from me <3  
> also, im now on twitter too, so you can talk to me there too @feministchopper :D

**Author's Note:**

> i would watch another 900 episodes of the strawhats just being domestic and living with each other and i'm not even joking  
> find me on tumblr @choppersuportsgirls


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